


The one in which love confessions don't end with death

by Pufosenie23



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angst, Because Dean can't say "I love you", Because it was fitting, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel Reads Dean's Mind, Castiel has a way with words, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester Needs to Use Actual Words, Dean Winchester asks Castiel to stay, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You), Fluff, How I think it could have gone, I stole some lines from Cas' confessions from the show, It's not impossible, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mary makes an appearance, Sam Winchester Takes Care of Dean Winchester, Season/Series 12, With Dean's consent don't worry, and of course it's a destiel fanfic, and they deserve better, at first, because these guys ruined my life, but not for long, cause i love them, confessions that don't end with death, hear that CW?, in his own way, it's okay tho, pls don't come after me, she's mostly just in the background, this is the longest thing i've written, very very very much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28812183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pufosenie23/pseuds/Pufosenie23
Summary: After Castiel's death bed speech, Dean finally realises that he's stayed quiet for too long and he needs to talk to his angel if he wants to fix things and make everyone happy(Sam included, cause God knows he deserves an award for putting up with these two).If only Dean could communicate.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 86





	The one in which love confessions don't end with death

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so phew this took me some time to finish but i managed. Still can't believe it!! 
> 
> This work was beta-ed by the awesome LanaVarsi, thank you so much!! 
> 
> Umm this is mostly just some fluff with some dashes of angst and Dean being dramatic, so enjoy!!!
> 
> (Kudos and comments are always appreciated)

This wasn’t happening. 

Dean refused to accept it. He just couldn’t. 

Cas was dying.  _ Again.  _ And Dean was helpless to do anything about it.  _ Again. _

He wanted to scream. Wanted to kick and slice and kill the one responsible for Cas’ current predicament, but even if he  _ could  _ do it, it still wouldn’t solve anything. Cas would still be impaled, he would still be in pain and dying and that was something Dean couldn’t save his angel from.

All he could do was stand there and listen as Cas gave the most heartbreaking death bed speech Dean had ever heard. 

_ Fuck! _

“...Thank you! Thank you, knowing you, it’s been the best part of my life and the things- ahh- the things that we’ve shared together, they’ve changed me.” Cas groaned, louder this time, the pain getting more intense as time passed. He tugged at his collar revealing even more sickening black veins spreading across his clammy skin. “You’re my family. I love you!” At this Dean had to look away. He couldn’t do this. He just couldn’t sit around and do nothing, say nothing, as Cas poured his heart out, frantic in his attempt to tell them, to get them to understand before he--.( _ to get  _ **_you_ ** _ to understand _ , a little torturous voice in his head whispered. He ignored it as much as he could). Dean blinked back tears trying to swallow around the lump in his throat, trying to get his mouth to work, to at least tell Cas that he loved him too. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t and Dean had never hated his inability to communicate properly, like a normal human being, more than he did now. He’d never hated  _ himself _ more than he did now.    
  
“I love all of you!” Cas continued, raising his eyes to look at Dean then Sam and finally, Mary. Mary who looked about to cry too, as she softly, soothingly stroked Cas’ arm in a weak attempt at comfort. “So please,  _ please _ , don’t make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run, save yourselves, and I’ll hold Ramiel off as long as I can!” he groaned out the last word, pain obvious in his voice as he tried to sit up and Dean’s heart shattered as he watched his angel try to sacrifice himself to save them once again. Dean’s heart shattered because Cas still didn’t know how important he truly was to them, to  _ him _ . He still didn’t know how loved he truly was, still didn’t think himself worthy of such sentiment and Dean swore to himself that when (because it would be _ when _ , not if) they got out of this, he would spend the rest of his life and then some trying to show the angel he really mattered. 

So of course he didn’t budge from his place, determined to protect his family to his dying breath and even beyond that. Sam, of course, backed him up, just as eager to let their best friend know they wouldn’t just leave him here to die a horrible, slow and painful death. 

They would find a way to save Cas. They would.

They had to.

****

Dean had never wanted to hug Crowley more than he did in that exact moment.

He did it! He did what Dean couldn’t and saved Cas. 

Still reeling from the night’s events, Dean grabbed the angel by the hand and tugged him upwards. Cas stumbled for a little bit, still unsure on his feet and Dean used this excuse to keep holding his hand for a few extra seconds, allowing himself to enjoy the warmth of Cas’ palm against his. The steady, slightly elevated pulse of the blood rushing through his veins grounded Dean. Cas was here. Cas was alive. He could indulge himself a little even though the guilt of doing so, taking advantage of the vulnerable state his angel was in, was sure to creep up on him later. But right now, Dean couldn’t find it in himself to care. Cas had come too close, way too close, to dying for Dean to remove himself from the angel’s personal space like he normally would.

And Cas didn’t seem too bothered by it, maybe even a little understanding if the reassuring squeeze Dean got was any indication. Cas’ voice rang through his mind again:  _ “I love you! I love all of you!”  _ The hunter gulped. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, it never ended well for him, but he thought…The way Cas had said the first “I love you,” Dean could swear it was directed at him.  _ Especially _ for him. Maybe he could--maybe they could… He shook his head and finally let go of Cas’ hand, stepping back and rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. He could ask Cas about it later. He  _ would _ ask Cas about it later. For now, though…

He turned to look at Crowley. The King of Hell was watching the scene in front of him unfold with a smirk that immediately sent Dean blushing like a little girl. From the corner of his eye he could see Sam and his mom staring at him with a knowing look in their eyes that made Dean feel too exposed. Suddenly the air in the barn was too suffocating, the air too cool against his hot skin, his own body too small to contain him. He had to get out. 

Dean cleared his throat and took a few hasty steps towards the exit, murmuring a quiet, barely there “Thank you” to Crowley as he moved past him. He could feel the demon’s dark, calculating eyes burning holes in the back of his head but Dean didn’t stop walking, kept going until he could feel the sharp, cold breeze of the outside air gently brushing his face and Baby’s cool metal, steady and constant underneath his sweaty palms. He exhaled and let himself lean against the car door, closing his eyes. He willed his still rapidly beating heart to calm the fuck down. It was okay, Cas was still there, the love of his freaking life was still alive and not lying on that horrible barn floor, life seeping out of him with every second that passed or getting his very essence blown to mere particles by an angry Lucifer or Raphael or drowning in some lake after a stupid attempt at godhood or getting stabbed by some reaper bitch or-- 

“Dean, Dean!” 

It was then that Dean realized someone was shaking him, screaming at him to snap out of it. Still a bit dizzy, he squinted trying to see through the darkness of the night and barely making out Sam’s worried face and puppy dog eyes frantically searching his face. 

“Sammy?” 

Sam’s shoulders slumped and he let his arms fall from Dean’s biceps. 

“Thank God! You gave me one hell of a scare back there. You weren’t breathing!”

Damn panic attack. Dean let out a still somewhat shaky breath and shook his head trying to rid himself of the last traces of irrational panic.   
  


“‘m sorry Sammy.” 

“What? Jesus, Dean, you don’t have to apologize for having a  _ panic attack _ , I just…” He sighed like he already knew whatever he was going to say wasn’t going to work, but he would try anyway. “Are you okay?” 

Dean huffed a short, self-deprecating laugh and turned around, yanking Baby’s door open. “Just peachy Sammy, don’t you worry little brother!” _ I just watched the love of my life almost die in the most horrible way possible, but I’m just fine. _

He got into Baby but didn’t turn her on, content to just relax against his seat and try to calm his racing mind. Sam got into the passenger seat next to him. Dean tensed up. He knew what that look on his brother’s face meant. It was his ‘We are going to talk about this, like it or not’ face. Dean sighed. Problem was, he knew he didn’t have the energy to fight this. Not tonight. So he just waited for Sam to begin talking. 

“Crowley fucked off. Mom and Cas are taking care of the bodies… Cas said he’s coming back with us after they finish.”

Dean turned to look at Sam, surprise painted across his face. He didn’t expect this particular conversation starter. But that didn’t mean he was off the hook. Sam knew Dean, he was probably just looking for a way to ease him into the actual conversation he wanted to have. Well, whatever he was doing, Dean wouldn’t help him along. Sammy could damn well mind his own business. 

“Of course he is.” Was all he said. 

Sam sighed and tensed up, steeling himself for the upcoming conversation.

“Dean,” he began cautiously. It just pissed Dean off even more. “…Was that panic attack from earlier about Cas?”

“No shit, Sherlock!” Dean snapped looking at Sam incredulously. Seriously? Did he really have to ask him that? Or was this some psychological bullshit, getting Dean to admit…whatever Sam wanted him to admit?

His brother sighed. “No, I meant, was it about him almost--” he stopped short of saying the word, mindful of Dean’s involuntary flinch. “Or was it about what he said?”

Dean pressed his lips together tightly. They were really doing this. After almost a decade, Sam was finally going to address the elephant in the room. Dean almost felt relieved…Almost.

“Look, Sammy, what do you want me to say? Cas is my best friend. And he almost died.  _ Again. _ Excuse me for having feelings for once!”

“Dean, that’s not what I’m trying to say. I just--”

“You just what? You want me to admit that I lo- that I care about him more than I would care about a friend? Even a best friend? That I would do anything, give anything so I wouldn’t have to watch him die or leave every few years? That I’m a coward, that I can’t tell him even when he’s  _ dying _ , because I’ve got it into my head that he can’t possibly feel like that about  _ me _ of all people? And why would he? All I ever did was hurt him, Sammy! Think about it, he lost his home, his brothers, his wings, his powers, his life, his fucking  _ sanity,  _ because he chose us…because he chose  _ me _ over anyone else, over and over and  _ over _ again!!”

Dean was panting, out of breath after his surprising outburst. He hadn’t been expecting that. Didn’t mean it wasn’t true, but still, he hadn’t been planning on admitting all that, especially in front of his brother. His brother, that was now looking at him with that sympathetic look on his face that he usually gave to the families of the victims from whatever case they were working. Dean  _ hated _ it. He didn’t need this. Didn’t need Sam’s pity, didn’t want it. 

He looked away.

From his right, he heard Sam sigh. He gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to have to punch his brother in the face tonight.

“I think that you should really talk to Cas about this.” Dean scoffed. Yeah, right. “I’m serious Dean! You can’t just keep going like this!”

“You just watch me!”

“Dean look at me.” He refused. “Look at me, dammit!” Sam finally lost his patience and physically turned Dean’s head towards him. 

Sam’s face was set in a determined stance, jaw clenched and his hazel eyes unwavering.

“Listen to me, Dean! You can’t keep blaming yourself because as you’ve just said, Cas  _ chose _ to do all that, he chose you, us, humanity, out of his  _ own free will _ . Isn’t that what he’s fought for since the beginning? Isn’t that why he rebelled? So don’t you dare disrespect him by undermining his choices and taking all the blame! Do you get it?”

Dean just gulped staring wide-eyed at Sam because yes, he did get it but…It was a completely different perspective. A whole new light cast over the entire situation! Dean had been so busy wallowing in his self-loathing that he never stopped to consider this particular aspect of Cas’ fall for humanity. It had never occurred to the hunter that maybe, just maybe this was how Cas had seen it all along. Of course, this particular realization didn’t make Dean suddenly let go of his guilt and self loathing when it came to his treatment of the angel because he knew it hadn’t been right for Dean to treat Cas like that. It hadn’t been right to drop all his anger and issues on him just because the angel always took it with a stoic look on his face and a fierce determination to forgive the hunter anything. Even the unforgivable.

No, the guilt and safe-hatred were still there, so deeply ingrained in his very being that Dean wasn’t sure he could be himself without them anymore. 

But, maybe, just maybe, he could start letting go of his past mistakes and actually work on improving the present. 

The next words that came out of Sam’s mouth were the kick in the ass Dean needed.

“You said all you do is hurt Cas, but Dean I have never seen the guy happier than when he is in your presence. He looks at you like you’re his entire friggin’ universe or something!! You want to fix things, you want to make Cas happy? Talk to him. Tell him how you really feel! It’s been almost a decade, for Chuck’s sake! It’s about damn time! And how about you let yourself have something nice for a change? I think that would make  _ everyone _ happy.” 

Dean closed his eyes. Considered it. Talking to Cas. Actually letting the angel know what was going on inside his head. Fixing things. Showing Cas how loved and desired and fucking adored he was. Kissing him. Getting to hold him in his arms as he drifted off to sleep and waking up to Cas’ sleep mussed hair and soft, chapped lips. All their interactions, all their bickering but without Dean holding back. Their entire relationship, not changed, but improved. Making Cas happy. Letting  _ himself _ be happy for once in his goddamn life.

He wanted it, he wanted it all so badly he felt like he might cry.

“Okay.” he finally croaked out, not trusting his voice to say more without cracking. He didn’t have to look at Sam to know that his features morphed into one big ‘surprised moose’ face (with the raised eyebrows and slightly parted lips, his nose scrunched up a bit, making the lines between his eyebrows resemble a little Wifi sign).

“Okay?”

Dean nodded, cleared his throat. He ran his fingers over Baby’s wheel, relishing in the familiar comfort. He refused to look at his brother any longer for fear that he might chicken out after all. 

“Yeah. I’m- I’m gonna do it, Sammy. I’mma talk to him.”

And that was all he got to say before Cas was yanking Baby’s door open and taking his usual place in the backseat. 

Dean gulped. He could do this. 

With a last glance at the angel in his rear-view mirror, Dean drove away.

****

It wasn’t like Dean was specifically avoiding having to talk to Cas. Or Cas in general.

That wasn’t what he was doing. Not at all.

It was just that...He was busy doing...stuff. Stuff like spring cleaning and changing Baby’s oil and reorganizing The Dean Cave. Important stuff. Definitely worth procrastinating having to talk to the angel. 

Okay, maybe not. Maybe Dean was just fooling himself. Like always. Maybe Dean was just terrified out of his freaking mind. Like always.( At least when it came to talking about his feelings, especially about his feelings for one particular Angel of the Lord). 

This acknowledgement however, did not mean Dean was anywhere near ready to do it. So he ignored Sam’s encouraging looks and Cas’ confused head tilts for as long as he could-- cooking dinner and engaging his brother and the angel in inane conversations and promptly avoiding any openings he might have seen in them, put there by his little brother, of course, because Sammy just couldn’t mind his own damn business for once in their fucked up lives-- before finally, shamefully accepting that he wasn’t going to do it (couldn’t do it, because he was a  _ coward _ ) and went to bed. 

He tried to ignore Sammy’s disappointed frown that he just knew had followed him until he was out of sight as best as he could…He didn’t think he had been very successful.

Pushing it all at the back of his mind, something that he knew wasn’t healthy, but hey old habits die hard, he quickly showered and brushed his teeth before stripping down to his boxers and getting under the warm covers on his bed. 

Too warm. Frowning he pushed and twisted the covers trying to get comfortable but it was either too hot or too cold, or sometimes just plain uncomfortable. He squirmed around on his memory foam mattress, trying any damn thing that came to mind in his attempt to fall asleep. Closing his eyes and letting himself drift, laying absolutely motionless for fifteen minutes straight, trying to think up a story or even counting sheep. Nothing worked. Letting his mind drift just brought up the memory of a sick, black- veins covered Cas, moaning and writhing on the ground and thinking up stories always led to some version of a semi apple pie life with him and Cas in the center of it all. And counting sheep was just ridiculous and stupid and whoever said it worked was lying through their teeth. So he’d tried counting little angels, with tiny wings growing out of their backs and jumping over a fence, to try an amuse himself if nothing else worked but that had totally backfired on him since it brought up the memory of his angel’s torn wings, a far cry from the first time he was allowed a glance at them. 

Sighing, Dean finally accepted that he wasn’t going to be able to sleep anytime soon and sat up, searching for his clothes, discarded somewhere on the cold hard floor of the bunker. Damn, Dean really ought to buy some carpets. The warm and fluffy type of carpets so his toes don’t freeze to death every friggin’ morning.

By the time he had his jeans back on, someone came knocking at his door. The knocking was quite loud and insistent and Dean rolled his eyes at his brother’s annoying habit of not letting things rest.

“Go away, Sammy! I’m fine!”

The door opened and Dean was just about ready to throw a pillow at the majestic moose’s face when the hunter noticed who exactly was standing in the doorway. Someone who was most definitely  _ not _ Sam. 

The low light of the corridor outlined the angel’s trench-coated frame, throwing his facial features in the shadows and unintentionally painting a golden halo around his head. Dean would have snorted at the irony, if he wasn’t so busy trying to rein his mounting panic back in control. He swallowed thickly and forced his mouth to work around the familiar three letter word. 

“C-Cas?”

The angel stepped over the threshold and closed the door, leaving them in the complete darkness of the room. Dean fumbled around on his nightstand until he finally found the lamp and turned it on, the soft, yellow light coming from it, low enough to not hurt his eyes. 

He turned to look at the angel, taking in the worried lines of his face and the dark bags under his eyes, telling Dean just how tired Cas truly was. His heart clenched. Cas had been pushing himself to his very limit while looking for Kelly and Dean was willing to bet he had not once stopped to just take a break once in a while. Well, Dean would be damned if he let this continue. After all he did promise himself to treat his angel better and show him how loved and wanted he was and this was a good start.

Cas sat down in the chair put there specifically for him (even though Dean would never admit it) and regarded Dean with those worried puppy dog eyes that Dean was 100% sure he had learned from Sam.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you at such a late hour, Dean. I tried to stay away, but your…longing is very hard to ignore.”

And Dean had never been more grateful he hadn’t been drinking anything in that moment, because if he had, he would have spit it all out, possibly choking himself to death. As it was, he could feel his entire face, even his goddamn ears, burning and he avoided eye contact at all costs.

“I-It’s okay, buddy, I- umm, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Cas sighed and regarded him with soft blue eyes. They were such a far cry from the firm, icy version of them from 8 years ago that Dean was having trouble believing this was the same person who’d rescued him from Hell under Heaven’s command back when Apocalypse 1.0 was still happening. But Cas wasn’t really the same person. He’s grown to be more compassionate, more understanding and loving. More attuned to humankind and their weird quirks. Less Castiel, ruthless mindless Servant of Heaven and more Cas, a dorky angel of the Lord and the Winchesters’ fiercest protector. 

And if Dean had liked Castiel, he absolutely adored Cas. 

_ His _ Cas. The one who watched  _ Tombstone _ with him  _ again _ , even though Dean knew he wasn’t that interested just because he wanted to spend some time together. The one who was one grumpy angel in the early hours of the morning before drinking his coffee because even if he didn’t sleep, he was addicted to the delicious bitter black liquid. The one who smiled at stray cats and bent down to pet them, his expression so blissful and carefree for a few moments that Dean’s heart couldn’t help but clench in his chest. The one who got next to none of the references that Dean made on a daily basis but still gave the hunter a small, patient smile and listened intently as if he could actually grasp the meaning of Dean’s words if only he concentrated long enough. The one who talked and joked with Sam when the man was in need of another nerdy person to hang out with and that took care of Dean’s little brother in a way that warmed Dean’s very core. The one who tried to always be there for Dean when the hunter needed him, offering him a hug or comforting word and never gave up on him even though Dean’s let Cas down so many times he thought it was a miracle Cas was still around and hadn’t fucked off for good, guided by a simple natural sense of self-preservation. Although considering everything he’s done in the past, Dean thought it was more likely that he simply didn’t have one and the hunter was simply too much of a selfish bastard to teach him otherwise. 

His Cas, who’d put everything he’d had to offer on the line just because Dean asked for his help, or because a member of their little makeshift family was in danger.

God help him, but Dean was  _ smitten.  _

He wanted to laugh. If only his dad could see him now, gay for an Angel of the Lord-- someone that was so far from being human (in John’s view anyway) that he might as well be from Mars (In a corner of Dean’s mind he wondered if aliens really existed and simply ignored Earth or something and made a mental note to ask Cas about it later).

But his dad wasn’t here. Hadn’t even been alive for over a decade.

And Dean was free to do whatever he damn wanted! If he wanted to hold a guy’s (or an angel in a male vessel’s) hand, he will hold that hand no matter John Winchester’s homophobic views on the matter. He wished he had reached that conclusion years earlier, but he knew that past him hadn’t really been ready. Hell, he wasn’t sure that  _ present _ him was ready.

He reached out and took Cas’ hand anyway.

He looked up, trying to fight the mounting anxiety that was threatening to take over and  _ didn’t let go;  _ not even when the angel peered curiously at their intertwined hands with such an intensity in his gaze Dean was worried Cas was trying to set his hand on fire. 

But the angel didn’t pull back.

“Dean,” Cas began slowly. “Are you okay?” he asked, kindly not mentioning the calloused hand that had found its way into his own, most probably for Dean’s own sanity. The hunter felt a sudden wave of affection wash over him, seemingly leaving behind a whole swarm of butterflies in his belly. He tried to ignore it as he processed Cas’ question. 

Dean scoffed. He was so so far from okay. Even now, hours after the danger passed he couldn’t help his mind from conjuring up images to torture himself with. He was tired. So damn tired.

He didn’t want to hide anymore. Not from Cas. And so he breathed out a quiet, strained, but truthful: 

“No.” 

Cas looked up, his squinty eyes sad and understanding. He squeezed Dean’s hand and Dean took a deep breath. He squeezed back, drawing strength from the angel and pushed himself to keep going. 

“I’m pretty damn far from okay. I--You almost  _ died _ Cas!” His voice broke on the last two words and he found himself having to blink back tears. He refused to look at Cas, but he knew from the slight tightening of the grip that he wanted to say something. Dean put up his free hand to stop him. “No, Cas, you don’t understand. I-I know I wasn’t exactly--that I haven’t exactly showed you too much attention, not- not nearly enough. And I’m sorry. I- You can’t even begin to imagine how _ sorry _ I am for neglecting you like that. For treating you- for treating you like a tool, really. A-and I’m disgusted with myself for that, but it..it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. That I don’t think and worry about you everyday, ‘cause, Cas, man y-you’ve gotta know I do. And I can’t--” Dean squeezed his eyes shut and stopped talking. He felt like his chest was going to split open right then and there. Stupid tears ran down his cheek and Dean felt like a stupid selfish bastard because it wasn’t his right to cry and whine and beg for forgiveness. Because he knew he would receive it. And he also knew that he didn’t deserve it. Never will. Because he was the sole person responsible for Cas’ downright horrible treatment and--.

“ _ Dean, stop!”  _ And suddenly, Cas’ hand was no longer in his but had instead moved to grip Dean’s left shoulder. The hunter’s mind flashed momentarily to the image of the long faded mark on that exact same spot as Cas’ hand right now and he wondered if the angel had done it intentionally or if it had only been muscle memory. That’s when he realised Cas was still talking. “You have to stop torturing yourself over things like these, Dean, it does you no good. I…I might have been in a bad place regarding my emotions and general state of mind last year, but I do know Dean. I know that you care and I also know you are not a man of words. For you, actions speak louder than words, always have and Dean, just tonight you could have run, tried to save yourselves and leave me there, but you didn’t. You chose to stay and fight and tried to find a way to help me. So yes, Dean I am aware that you care about me. You are a very caring person, after all, with a very bright, beautiful soul. It’s one of the reasons I love you. I can’t deny that some things you’ve said and done hurt me over the years but if you can forgive me for betraying your trust, completely shattering Sam’s wall, devastating Earth and Heaven and releasing the Leviathan in my arrogant, stupid attempt at Godhood, then I can definitely forgive you for any flaws that you might have. You are only human, Dean. Please let the past go.”

It shouldn’t have surprised Dean, that Cas was still agonizing over what he’d done all those years ago, in an attempt to stop Raphael from starting the Apocalypse again. It also shouldn’t have surprised him how easily Cas pronounced the l-word and in regards to Dean, no less. As if it already was a well-known, universal fact and not a complete novelty. As if it didn’t send Dean’s mind into overdrive and the, from now permanent, swarm of butterflies in his belly into a frenzy. As if it didn’t make Dean’s very soul ache in a way that even his low human senses could pick up on. He wondered what Cas thought of it all as he regarded Dean with his blue eyes that saw too much and that soft,  _ loving _ pull of his plump lips that had no business appearing on anyone’s face when they looked at him. 

And still.

Slowly, he moved his right hand to rest atop Cas’ left one, pressing down a bit as if to emphasize his next words as he looked the angel in the eyes.

“How about you take your own advice, Angel, and stop hating yourself for those mistakes that you made years ago, huh?” Dean let a small smile grace his face, biting his lower lip at his slip up. Thankfully, Cas didn’t comment on it, preferring instead to give Dean a small, strained smile of his own and a nod. 

“I will try.”

“Good.” 

Dean looked down, suddenly fascinated with the dark blue colour of his worn out jeans and bit the inside of his cheek. He had a real, Sam-free opportunity now to talk to Cas, confront him about the now two  _ ‘I love you’ _ s sent his way. He couldn’t hide the fact that it terrified him. What if Dean had misunderstood, what if it was just familial love, nothing romantic about it? Cas was an angel, despite the fact that sometimes Dean forgot that, was he even capable of feeling that way?

Before the panic could really set in, he took a few deep breaths and made an effort to push these worries out of his mind. He’d promised Sam and, more importantly, himself, that he would actually give this a try and  _ talk _ . 

So he owed it to himself and Cas to do it. 

His gaze remained fixed on the floor as he asked: “You’ve said that two times now, you know?”

He didn’t have to look at Cas to know the angel was doing his signature head tilt right now.

“Said what?”

“That you lo-- that you-uum, you know what!” As expected he couldn’t say it. The hand on his shoulder tightened its grip for a bit and Dean wondered if Cas was mad at him for being incapable of saying that damned word, but the angel sounded pretty amused as he replied:

“It’s only a word Dean. A good one. A defining one for you, really. It wouldn’t kill you to pronounce it.”

The angel’s playful tone surprised Dean to the point that he actually lifted his head to glare at his best friend. “Smartass.” Cas only offered him an innocent expression.

This time Dean’s eyes remained trained on the angel’s as he asked his next question.

“How?”

“...I’m afraid I don’t understand. How what?”

Dean gulped. Here it comes.

“How did you mean it? R-romantically or--?” he cut himself off, his throat going impossibly tight around the next words. He thought he’d made himself pretty clear anyway. 

Dean’s stomach sank when Cas removed his hand from his shoulder only to sigh in relief when it turned out the angel had only wanted to take his hands in his once more. Dean was having a hard time deciding which one was his favourite. 

Cas’ rough thumb caressed his knuckles in a decidedly  _ not _ platonic gesture as he answered. His intense almost otherworldly blue eyes bore into Dean’s green ones trapping the hunter in a sort of trance, maddening and impossible to escape. Cas’ face was unreadable.

“I do not really understand why you are asking me this. It is not like I have done a good job of hiding it. It is quite obvious to everyone in this world that I’m in love with you, Dean Winchester, but for some reason you still seem to doubt it.” His face softened, the corners of his lips pulled into a small, genuine,  _ happy _ smile as he continued. “Perhaps it has something to do with your extraordinarily low self-esteem, or perhaps with something else completely. But if you need to hear it, I will gladly tell you every hour of your every day until only ashes and nothingness remain of this world and maybe even beyond that. I love you. I love you like a lover, I love you like a friend, I love you like a cause, a reason to keep fighting, I love you like a family, I love you in any and every way humans can love somebody and a few that you cannot even comprehend because however much I try, I still am very much an angel. Dean, angels were made for worship, they were made to follow and serve God’s cause, only you shifted all those onto yourself. Ever since I rescued you from Hell, I began falling and I’ve never stopped. Even now, I look at you and find myself falling in ways I could never have even imagined. You showed me how to love, Dean. Because you cared, I cared. I care about you…I care about Sam, I care about Mary, but I care about the whole world  _ because _ of you! You’ve changed me, Dean. I no longer worship God, I worship _ you _ !”

In the silence that followed, Dean could only stare at Cas, mouth slightly agape, a few traitorous tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He had  **_not_ ** expected that. He knew Cas had a way with words. Being an angel, he’s told Dean once, meant he knew every language that humans have ever created and a few others. But that…Dean had a hard way communicating the simplest of feelings on his good days, what was he supposed to say to something like  _ that _ ? How was he supposed to communicate, to tell Cas about his own feelings, about the ways  _ he _ had changed Dean, about the fact that he had inspired faith in a tortured, broken human that had never believed in much of anything beside his brother until they’d met? How was he supposed to explain the ache in Dean’s chest every time he watches Cas go, the way his soul reaches out to the angel, fueled by a desire to latch on and never let go? How was he supposed to let Cas know about the hollow, gaping wound that took his heart’s place every time he’d had to watch Cas die? The way he wanted nothing more than to hug him and keep him safe in his arms as he fell asleep?

“I-” the sentence fell short, the words stuck in his throat on their way out, strangling him, forcing his tongue flat with their weight.    
  


Cas only smiled and shook his head, retracting his hand from Dean’s. The hunter immediately missed the warmth and he clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching out. 

He looked at Cas and did not like the look of quiet resignation and thinly veiled pain that Cas’ crooked smile painted on his face.

“It is quite alright Dean, you don’t have to say anything. I know you don’t feel the same way but I promise nothing has to ch--”

He was interrupted by Dean’s hands frantically reaching for the lapels of his coat and pulling him flash against the hunter’s chest. Because Dean couldn’t bear this, couldn’t bear letting Cas think he was alone in his feelings. He may be shit with his words but he had to let him know. An idea was brewing at the back of his mind but he ignored it in favour of making sure the meaning of his next words got across.

“I do Cas. You’ve gotta know I do feel the same. I just can’t- I can’t--” Dean growled, frustration and a mounting desperation bleeding into the sound. 

For his part, Cas looked at Dean absolutely flabbergasted, a new tiny light in his eyes that looked so much like the tentative beginnings of hope that Dean’s heart clenched painfully. Had Cas been that convinced that his feelings were unrequited? Had Dean been that much of an asshole to the angel that he managed to appear like he was completely uninterested in something more with the angel?

“Dean…” The awe in Cas’ gravelly voice told Dean the angel had probably never even considered it a viable option and with that, the idea that had been pushed away earlier came out in the form of:

“Read my mind.” Dean winced at his own words. What was he thinking? Did he really want Cas to wander around his noggin and hear all his dark, terrifying truths? But he had to do this, he had to let Cas know. 

“Dean, I can’t do that, that’s a grave invasion of privacy and you always complain about your personal space!”

The hunter shook his head and pressed on.

“This time I’m asking you to do it. I give you my consent to go all Edward Cullen on me.” A small pause. “ Please. You- I need you to know, I need to show it to you. I’m shit with words but at least this way you can be sure.”

For a few seconds (that felt more like decades to Dean than his time in Hell ever did) of Cas staring at him with a clearly shocked expression on his face, the angel finally, tentatively nodded. 

He put his hand on both Dean’s rosy cheeks and the hunter’s heart fluttered. Cas’ eyebrows were narrowed in concentration as he asked Dean one more time: “Are you completely sure you want me to do this? I’ve told you I’m quite content with--” 

Dean rolled his eyes and made an impatient sound. “Just get on with it!” Was all he could say at that point.

“Okay.”

*******

Having someone in your brain is quite the experience. He could feel a warm, foreign presence at the back of his mind, but it wasn’t overwhelming like he’d thought it’d be. Even though Dean believed it had something to do with the fact that it was Cas in his brain and not some other angel.

He felt Cas gently push at the surface of his thoughts and that reminded Dean that he had a job to do. And so he began.

He thought about the day they met, about the awe and terror he’d felt then, faced with the undeniable evidence that angels were real. 

He thought about their time together, in the beginning, how Dean had felt drawn to Cas in a way he’d never been drawn to anyone else before, even back then. At the time he’d thought it was because Cas was an angel, but it quickly became apparent that wasn’t the case. 

He thought about Cas’ head tilts and adorable, weird angel quirks and confused questions and the waves of gentle easy affection they elicited.

He thought of the times Cas had watched movies with them and stayed in the Bunker, about how complete and happy and content he’d been to have Cas by his side even temporarily. 

He thought about the times Cas had fought alongside him, about his complete trust in the angel and his abilities. And then about the times he’d died, about the way the world felt hollow and wrong, completely colorless as Dean was forced to walk around with a gap in his chest, stuck searching for someone that he would never see again. 

He thought about their reunions, about the way Dean wanted nothing more than to stay in Cas’ arms and enjoy the angel’s comforting warmth and familiar thunderstorm smell. 

He took all these feelings, all his love and grief and desperation and pushed them towards the angel, waves after waves of repressed feelings washing over Cas at the same time. The dam had broken somewhere in Dean’s mind and the hunter couldn’t even gather enough energy to fight it. He just let things happen, tired after decades in which he’d kept everything locked up inside. 

When it was over, Dean opened his eyes, blinking away tears to look at his angel. 

Cas looked…wrecked for lack of a better word. Tears were freely rolling down his face, and his usually clear blue-eyes were slightly glazed over as he took in the entirety of Dean’s tangled mess of emotions. His hands were still on Dean’s face seemingly trying to ground himself in the middle of the devastating torrent of pure human feelings. 

When he finally looked at Dean, pain and love were swirling so freely in his eyes that the hunter’s breath got caught in his throat.

“Dean…”

But the time for words had long since passed. Dean finally gave in to his desires and pulled Cas down by the tie for a kiss. The moment the angel’s lips touched his, Dean knew he was completely ruined for other people. No other could compare to the feel of Cas’ plump, slightly chapped lips against his. No other could even come close to giving Dean this kind of electrical rush that tingled right underneath his skin as Cas completely ravished him. 

No, Cas was  _ it  _ for him and that was the exact moment that Dean realized it.

With the dam broken, the words could finally slip free against his angel’s parted lips.

“I love you, Cas.” 

The moan that Cas let out at the words was totally worth the strain. And with this thought Dean tugged Cas down on the bed with him, scooting backwards until his back was pressed against the headboard, his angel above him. 

He felt a pure, unfamiliar kind of rush taking over his body and after some consideration he realised exactly what it was: happiness. The kind of happiness that could only come from being with the one you love. It felt free and good and all kinds of right as he, finally after almost a decade, let himself love his angel in every way he wanted. 

Dean Winchester was finally free. 

****

Later that night as they sat on the bed, a mess of tangled limbs, Dean’s head against Cas’ shoulder and the angel’s nose in his hair, the hunter finally voiced what he’s wanted to tell Cas for so long now:

“Stay.”

He could feel Cas inhale sharply, his muscles going tense against him before finally relaxing. He let out a low hum and nuzzled Dean’s hair in an adorable gesture as he answered his human’s quiet plea:

“I will.”


End file.
